Page 50 of May I Have the Pleasure
“He does not suit you at all,” Darcy said, far more stridently than he intended.
“In what way?”
“The man is an idiot,” Darcy grumbled. It was probably unwise, but it slipped out and he did not regret it—not precisely.
Elizabeth sat preternaturally still, staring for some time before replying with a shrug and a resigned sigh.
“Yes, that is entirely true, and nobody of sense can dispute it. That said,any manwho proposes to me is likely to be an idiot. My mother says it makes little difference who I marry, and she is probably right for once.”
Darcy frowned ferociously and started to speak several times before finally giving up and asking, “Pray, explain.”
She looked downcast. “In the bloom of optimistic and ignorant youth, Jane and I swore thatonly the deepest love would induce us into matrimony.Recent experiences put paid to that silly idea.”
“How so?” he said, more gently than before.
Elizabeth sighed deeply and stared until he felt like a bug under a magnifying glass. Darcy felt as if she were winding herself up for a tirade, but when it came, it was nowhere near as strident as expected.
“Let us face facts. As I said, any man likely to propose is an idiot; but that is just a description of the odds, since in my experience, most men are.”
“How so?” he asked with less stridency.
He noticed the lady examining him closely as if she were trying to decide whether to trust him or not. Apparently, he barely passed muster when she started speaking.
“Let us examine the men I know. My father is a well-educated but indolent man. With an estate of £2,000 a year, he has failed in a quarter-century of marriage to save a farthing for his daughters’ advancement, or to ensure we are at least marriageable. He cannot even be bothered to keep his wife and daughters in check.
“Sir William Lucas has done only one thing of note his entire life and spent the next decade endlessly reliving it—while exchanging the very profitable store his grandfather built for his barely solvent estate.
“Mr Long uses the same farming methods his great-grandfather employed. My Uncle Philips is an excellent attorney—if you catch him before luncheon. Most of my father’s contemporaries have similar stories.” she said, then glanced at the man to see how he was taking the news.
Darcy was listening intently, so she continued.
“Most boys we played with as children with any sense joined the military (voluntarily or otherwise), or they left long ago for greener pastures—and to be honest, the pastures are greener almost everywhere. Those remaining are uniformlyidiots. Even if they were not, they would be stupid to marry a Bennet, when there are good odds that he would eventually need to support her rather obnoxious mother and some unmarried sisters. Even that, rather optimistically, presumes none of the sillier sisters ruin themselves. Any man with half a brain in his head would pick Charlotte Lucas or Emily Goulding in a heartbeat over any Bennet. They at least have minimal dowries, unentailed estates, somewhat sensible mothers, and far fewer unmarriageable sisters. They are all just as pretty and just as accomplished as any Bennet.”
Darcy’s head was swimming. “But are the four and twenty families the only men you must choose from? I heard you have an uncle in town, and your father must have acquaintances from university with sons.”
“I mentioned my father’s indolence, but perhaps I was not explicit enough. Correspondence is not his strong suit—if he has one. He has lost contact with his university chums and has no desire to mend the breech. As to my uncle in town, until I reach my majority my parents would never allow me to marry a tradesman. They believe it would diminish the already poor prospects of my sisters—which is probably true. Aside from that, most of the men my uncle knows are his contemporaries, and any man of forty or fifty who would marry a woman of twenty is an idiot by definition… as is any woman who marries a man almost guaranteed to die decades before her, likely leaving her alone with a gaggle of children. In my uncle’s world, men can rarely support a wife in anything approaching comfort before thirty or thirty-five unless they are already wealthy, and the already wealthy men can easily reachmuchhigher than the penniless daughter of an insignificant entailed estate.”
“Are those your only choices?” he asked while looking at her intently.
She paused for some time, and finally shrugged.
“Back before I put away my childish things, I believed in luck, but recent visitors put that idea to rest. One gentlemanshowed such great promise as to even override my inherent cynicism… for a while. Six weeks later, he revealed himself as just another city rake fishing for a few months in our country pond—the same as every other rake who preceded him, and those who will follow. After essentially courting my sister—or at least paying herobvious and particularattention for six weeks—he left without a word, breaking her heart and assigning her the neighbourhood’s derision for disappointed hopes.”
Darcy gasped and started to speak, but Elizabeth forestalled him by raising her hand.
“I did not come here to argue about Mr Bingley. I do not care anymore—but can you blame me for believing most men are idiots?Can you truly blame me?I thought myself a fine judge of character, and seriously believed he was an honourable, upright, and amiable man—a cut above the rest. If even Mr Bingley has feet of clay… well… what else can I conclude? Either most men are numbskulls, or my ability to separate the wheat from the chaff is sorely deficient,” she said, staring at the fire in defeat.
“Do you include me in your list of idiots?”
“Not particularly. You are entirely irrelevant.”
That assertion startled Darcy, and he asked curiously, “How so?”
“Aside from the fact that we never even liked each other, you are a man of the first circles. We are chalk and cheese. Whether you are an idiot or not is as immaterial as how many hounds you keep. I am only here to ask if your aunt will allow me to run my own home if I marry the specific baconbrain who serves as her rector.”
Darcy reeled at the assertion that they did not even like each other, but he did not have the heart to tackle it head on.
“Is that truly all you came for?” he asked suspiciously, but then wondered if it had been wise when he saw the lady’s eyes light up in anger.
